


Return of the Fling

by Fullmetalcarer



Series: The Adventures of Charles the Hobbit and Erik the Nazgûl(retd) [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Charles You Slut, Crack, Erik You Slut, M/M, Making a mockery of LOTR, Making a mockery of X-Men, Mines of Moria, Temper temper Colin, Tentacle Sex, Threesome, Watcher in the Water You Slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:58:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer
Summary: A few months have passed and Charles and Erik are getting bored in the West (all those bloody elves).  The war in Middle Earth must be over by now, why don't they go home, what can possibly go wrong?





	Return of the Fling

"I'm bored," whined Erik.

Charles tutted. "How can you say that, surrounded by beautiful elvish architecture, and listening to beautiful elvish songs and poems, and looking at beautiful elvish art and . . . oh, gods, it's stunningly boring isn't it?"

He snuggled a bit closer to Charles. They'd just enjoyed a bit of role play; Erik had been Smaug the dragon and Charles had been Bilbo Baggins. Smaug had caught Bilbo rifling through his hoard (Erik's robes) and had eaten him all up, starting with his cock.

"It's because they're immortal. They've got all the time in the world, literally. You go to sleep and they're singing a song and you think "that's nice" and you wake up and they're still singing the same bloody song and they're still singing it three weeks later."

Charles sighed. "I know what you mean. You want to have a quick chat, but they have to tell you all their names, in high elvish and woodland elvish and bushy elvish - "

"There's no such thing as bushy elvish," interrupted Erik.

"And then they tell you their name in the language of the dwarves and then in all the frigging languages of men and half an hour's gone by and you've forgotten what you wanted to talk about."

"We could go home?"

"You said Middle Earth was going to turn into a shit-storm."

"Yeah, but it's been a few months, it's bound to be over by now. If Sauron won he'll be ruling over a world of darkness and despair and I'll be right in. If your lot won, well, you're related to the Ringbearer so you'll be sorted. We can't lose."

"Won't you be in trouble for skiving off?"

Erik shook his head. "One time me and the rest of the Ringwraiths had a row and I pissed off to Emyn Muil for three years and when I got back they hadn't even noticed I'd gone. Emma said she'd thought I'd popped out for some milk. Bastards."

Charles patted him soothingly.

"Alright, let's go home."

Erik whooped, disturbing some elves who were discussing ancient writings in hushed tones.

They packed up, saddled Snowflake and went down to the port the next day. The captain of the next ship sailing east seemed to have a bit of trouble understanding what they wanted.

"You want to sail east?"

"Yes."

"But no one sails east."

"You are."

"Yes, but only to pick up some elves and bring them west. I never take passengers east, only west."

"Great, they'll be plenty of room."

Eventually they persuaded him to let them on board. Charles asked how much it would cost and he said "nothing, you can travel as ballast", which Erik thought was pretty insulting. It was an uneventful voyage, except for Erik throwing up. Charles had guts of iron and remained entirely unaffected even during tumultuous storms. Snowflake the mighty stallion (who was actually a mighty mare) didn't seem troubled either. The captain further pissed Erik off by declaring his seasickness was probably due to them sailing east, which nobody ever did. Erik was mightily relieved to set foot on dry land.

"There seem to be a lot of elves heading west," observed Charles.

"Probably the holiday season," said Erik, vaguely.

"Or maybe the outbreak of war," said Charles, scathingly.

It was three weeks later and they were skulking on the edges of the mountains of Moria, trying to evade bands of orcs (Charles) and elves (Erik).

"You said it would all be over by now," said Charles, looking at him accusingly.

Snowflake looked at him accusingly too.

"I thought it would be. Look, why don't we cross the mountains? It'll be quieter on the other side."

"Cross the mountain?" said Charles, gazing fearfully up at the towering gulfs of stone and ice and snow above them.

"Oh, we're not going over the top," said Erik, "you'd have to be a moron to try that at this time of year. No, we'll go underneath."

"Underneath? Won't there be orcs? Didn't you say there was a Balgrog?"

"I think you mean Balrog and we'll be fine, honestly."

Charles looked pretty disgruntled, but agreed. They made their way along the edge of the lake beneath the western slopes of the mountain. They were making good progress when the waters heaved and a shitload of tentacles shot out and grabbed Charles, who screamed like a girl. Erik drew his dread sword and hacked and chopped like a madman until the tentacles let go. A vast beast rose from the waters, a nightmare of teeth and suckers and tentacles. It said something in the language of Mordor. Erik replied, pretty heatedly. There was a bit of to and fro.

"What's it say? What's it say?"

"It says it's sorry, it didn't realise you were with me, it thought you were unattached and was overcome by your attractiveness and followed the mating rituals of its kind."

Charles stared at him, then the beast, then at him again.

"Are you saying that was its version of asking me on a date?"

"More or less. It's very apologetic. It would never have tried anything if it had known you were already mated."

The huge monstrosity held out a tentacle.

"It wants to shake hands, well, tentacles, well, both to show there's no hard feelings."

Very hesitantly Charles grasped the tentacle.

"Oh, I thought it would be cold and slimy, but actually it's warm and silky. Mmmm."

"Let go of the tentacle, Charles."

The hideous monster rumbled something.

"No, no way!" yelled Erik.

"What?" asked Charles, who was not only still holding the tentacle, but gently stroking it.

"It suggested a three way."

Charles turned his huge blue eyes on Erik. They widened until they were impossible large.

"I've always been curious about tentacle sex. It seems like a nice respectful monster, I know we had a bit of a misunderstanding to start with, but look how sweet it's being now."

Tiny tentacles were stroking Charles hair.

"No, Charles, absolutely one hundred percent no."

Which was why Erik found himself stripping off while the Watcher in the Water gently unpeeled Charles' clothes. Gods, he looked good, with his pale skin and his dark hair and his too-big-for-his-body cock. The Watcher thought so too. Tentacles slithered all over his skin.

Charles eyes widened. "Oh, fuck, Erik, the feel of its suckers, bloody hellfire."

A couple of tentacles wandered over to Erik. Sodding heck, the suckers did feel good as they stuck to his body, then released with a gentle pop. They gave off a sort of oily substance, which smelt a bit like eucalyptus. Erik grabbed Charles and French-kissed him. A little tentacle crept into his mouth too. It tasted spicy. Charles sucked greedily on Erik's tongue and the Watcher's tentacle. Other tentacles caressed them all over, some with a featherlight touch, some with a firm grasp. Erik was beginning to think this was one of Charles' better ideas. When a tentacle wrapped round his cock and tiny suckers clung and released, he was positive that this was Charles' best idea ever.

The tentacles flipped Charles onto his front and parted his buttocks to show his tiny, pink pucker. The tip of one stroked his hole then gently crept in. Charles moaned. The tentacle slid in and out, depositing the oily substance. Meanwhile, another had stroked Erik to full hardness. Two more pressed into Charles and started fucking him. The Watcher unwrapped Erik's cock and poised it against Charles' hole. Erik pushed in. The sensation of penetrating Charles, while at the same time three tentacles writhed around his cock was amazing. Both Erik and Charles groaned. Erik started fucking Charles in time with the tentacles. He felt one prodding at his own hole.

"Yes, do it, fucking do it!"

It pushed in, thickened and started pumping. The tentacles kept pace with Erik at first, then started to thrust in a complicated counter rhythm. One crept underneath Charles, no doubt to grasp his prick. He was fucking Charles along with the Watcher. The Watcher was fucking him and jerking off Charles. Charles clenched and wriggled and squirmed and sobbed and gasped. The tentacles started pulsing. Charles screamed and Erik yelled and started thrusting in a frenzy. Charles clamped down on him and on the tentacles like a vice and he was coming and the Watcher was leaking green stuff, so presumably it was coming, and Charles was convulsing with his own orgasm.

They lay on a bed of tentacles. It was a bit chilly so the Watcher thoughtfully provided a tentacle coverlet. When they'd got their breath back, it splashed water on them and helped them clean up. They dressed and said their goodbyes. Charles insisted on Erik translating:

"It was delightful to meet you and if I'm ever travelling this way again I shall certainly look you up."

The Watcher disappeared into the dark waters with a wave of a tentacle, presumably to have a post-sex snooze.

"I hope nobody disturbs it," said Erik, "they can be a bit touchy if you wake them from a nap."

He put Charles on Snowflake's back and they forged onwards. Snowflake was just glad to be on the move again. She was used to hanging around while Erik and Charles had sex, but had found the whole tentacle thing frankly repulsive.

In the distance, nine figures approached the lake.

"What a nice person," chirped Charles.

"I'm not sure it qualifies as a person."

"Don't be speciesist, Erik."

They came to a couple of huge, ancient holly trees, with a stretch of bare cliff face in between.

"I'm pretty sure the gate's here."

"Where?" said Charles, looking sceptically at the stone.

"Here."

Erik tapped and scraped and, eventually, kicked at the cliff. He hopped around clutching his booted foot and swearing. The moon came out from behind the clouds. Silvery lines appeared on the stone, delineating the gate and some elvish script.

"Great," muttered Charles, "a bunch of lines. Are we supposed to squeeze through a crack?"

"No, we're supposed to speak the magic word, then the gates will open."

"Well, go on then, it's getting cold and I'm fed up of standing around out here."

"Abracadabra!"

Nothing.

"Izzywhizzylet'sgetbizzy!"

Nothing.

"Fucking open you bastard!"

Nope.

"Hang on a minute, what's that say?" asked Charles.

"Dunno, I can't read elvish."

Charles gave him a look. He read the silver words aloud and, smooth as silk, the gate swung open.

"How did you do that?"

"It's written above the gate, "say "friend" and enter". Only an idiot could miss it."

He looked pointedly at Erik, who muttered "told you I can't read elvish".

They stepped inside, Snowflake's hooves echoing in the enclosed space. Erik conjured an eldritch light. They followed the main passageways for weary mile after weary mile. Charles started yawning hugely. Erik insisted they stop and eat and sleep. Charles cuddled up to him and Erik made sure Charles had the lion's share of the blankets. They leant against Snowflake for additional warmth.

They started again after five or six hours, Erik's instincts leading them inexorably onwards. They came to a vast hall, with enormous carven pillars disappearing upwards into the gloom. They were halfway across when there was a huge boom, a massive crack appeared in the floor and a towering form of shadow and flame loomed out of it. The creature of dark fire readied its whip of flame to strike. Charles shrieked and hid behind Erik. Snowflake tried, unsuccessfully, to hide behind Charles.

"Hey, Colin, it's me, it's Erik of Lehnsherr."

The gigantic form hesitated.

"Erik, Erik of Lehnsherr?" it roared.

"Yeah. Gods, it's been years. How've you been?"

"Oh, not so bad after I got over that moron Apoc, no, he goes by Sauron now doesn't he, accidentally zapping me with existential angst."

"He's got a glass lens now so we don't have so much trouble with that anymore."

"Who's this?" roared Colin the Balrog. "A sacrifice?"

"No, no, this is my partner, Charles."

"Hello, Charles," bellowed Colin, extending a house sized hand of shadow to Charles.

"Hello, Colin," quavered Charles, dipping a tiny, trembling hand into Colin's formless fingers.

"Come and chew the fat with me, Erik, literally and metaphorically."

"Delighted, Colin."

Colin led them to the far end of the cavern and a enormous niche in the wall. There was a shadowy bed and table and chairs. Everything was very insubstantial in a strangely solid way.

"He's rather daunting, isn't he," whispered Charles.

"He's a sweetheart when you get to know him."

Charles looked doubtful. Erik was relieved he wasn't contemplating a threesome. A threesome with Colin would be fatal.

"Fancy some barbecue?"

"Great."

Colin shoved a whole, unidentifiable animal on a spit and breathed fire on it. While they waited for it to cook, he and Erik reminisced about the good old days when they used to spread terror and despair across the world. Charles looked disapproving.

"Ah, great days, Erik, great days. It's all bloody orcs and cave trolls nowadays, more economical supposedly. That's as maybe, but when you want blood and fire and mayhem and foreboding, proper, good old-fashioned foreboding, you need a Balrog or a Nazgûl. Am I right, Erik, or am I right?"

"Too right, Colin, too right."

"These orcs and trolls come over here and undercut us because they'll take payment in human flesh, but where's the craftsmanship, where's the pride in your work? You hardly see a decent disembowelment these days and I can't remember the last time I saw a proper evisceration. It's all heads on spikes nowadays. Lazy if you ask me. Ah, looks like the barbie's ready."

He started tearing the unidentifiable animal into huge, steaming chunks.

"He's a bit boring, isn't he, in a horrible way?" Charles whispered.

"He never used to be like this. He's turned into a right misery."

"There you go, boys, enjoy."

Erik tucked in. Charles regarded his meat suspiciously. He took a cautious bite.

"Mmmm, this is delicious. What is it? Mutton?"

"Human."

Charles froze and turned green.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, haaaa! You should see your face! Of course it's not human."

Charles' colour returned to normal. He started chewing again.

"It's orc," bawled Colin.

Charles spat it out and started retching and choking.

"Oh, you are a one, Colin," said Erik, furiously winking and grimacing at Colin, who was notoriously slow on the uptake. "Of course it's not orc."

"What? Yes, it's or . . . I mean, no, no, just joking again, I'm such a wag, it's not orc, it's er, er - "

Erik mouthed "goat" at him.

"It's gopher, I mean goat, yes, that's it, goat."

"Thank you very much, but I seem to have lost my appetite," said Charles, primly.

"Let's get out of here," he said, sotto voce to Erik. "He's an uncultured lout and a miserable git."

Colin was still droning on about evil not being as evil as it used to be in the good, or rather, bad old days.

"So what's your opinion on wizards?" said Charles, more for something to say than because he gave a stuff for Colin's opinion.

"What?" growled Colin.

Erik frantically made shushing signs and lip zipping gestures at Charles, who ignored him completely.

"You know, wizards, sorcerers, magicians, conjurers."

"You've done it now," muttered Erik.

All the flame seemed to die down in Colin. He was nothing but a huge, ominous shadow. Then his fires surged up, dark red and vivid yellow and he seemed to swell to twice his size.

"Wizards, don't talk to me about wizards, always looking down their noses at the likes of us. Thinking they can summon me, ME, and conjure me and confine me in their pathetic pentagrams. Half of 'em don't even use blood, they use chalk, CHALK! They throw their weight around, order you about, "Oh, just incinerate these elves, there's a good chap", or they bloody bind you in triple chains of whatsit for a thousand years."

He swirled his flaming whip around his head and struck a pillar. It crumbled to dust and big chunks of ceiling fell to the floor.

"Well, it's been great catching up and thanks for the orc, I mean goat, but we've got to be on our way."

Erik threw Charles onto Snowflake's back, leapt into the saddle behind him and urged the horse into a gallop.

"The next wizard I see I'm going to gut him," screamed Colin.

The sound of falling masonry encouraged Snowflake to pick up her pace. They got to the tunnel at the far end. Erik pulled Snowflake up. He and Charles turned and looked back. Colin was swinging his whip wildly, thundering invective against wizards and taking out several more pillars.

"Phew," said Erik, "we're well out of that. I can't believe it, he used to be such a nice bloke. I pity the next traveller to come through here."

Charles nodded. "Especially if they're a wizard."

They disappeared into the tunnel.

Nine figures emerged at the other end of the cavern.


End file.
